


To Whom It May Concern

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: The first letter he finds shoved under his door in the morning, when he’s still half-asleep and running on black tea and a handful of granola. He almost misses it.





	To Whom It May Concern

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Secret admirer, sending love letters or gifts anonymously

The first letter he finds shoved under his door in the morning, when he’s still half-asleep and running on black tea and a handful of granola. He almost misses it. Probably would have if it hadn’t gotten caught between the hall carpet and the metal frame of the door.

He leans down and tugs it free, pulls the door shut behind him before Roz can escape and make a furry break for the elevators. It’s too early for that shit. It’s so early that she’s probably still curled up with Steve, snug and warm under the electric blanket that his mom sent them for Christmas and why the fuck is he up before the sun, again? Oh, yeah, for the worst reason: by choice.

Crack of dawn in the dark when the whole world is tucked away, when he can walk down the block with only streetlights for company with a smoke and just think for 20 minutes straight. It feels like he has the city to himself, the three rivers, the sidewalks, the trees. All of it belongs to him for that little while in the morning between home and everything else; on a good day, he can run until 4 on the shit his brain comes up with on that walk. Whatever else is going on his life, at work, or between him and Steve, he can lay all that aside and let his mind wander, fueled by nicotine and the chilly morning air.

But this morning, his quiet is disheveled, unsettled, because this morning, there’s an unfamiliar envelope in his pocket with  _To Whom It May Concern_ scrawled on it. It’s not from the super; Nat’s a fan of printed labels, the type smooth and even and standard across everyone. Besides, they renewed their lease last month and if there was something wrong, if they’d fucked up, she would’ve called them. They don’t fuck up, though, not where the building’s concerned. Everybody loves them.

Correction: everybody loves Steve. Who can blame them? He holds open doors and helps carry groceries and lets the little kids from 2C swing on his arms like he’s a jungle gym, laughing just as loud as they are. There’s no calculation behind it, no charm campaign: Steve like people, enjoys lending a hand, has ever since they were kids. He’s always been nice, just by nature. He’s even nice when they fight, which Bucky hates with a goddamn fucking passion because sometimes, he just needs to yell and have someone shout back and Steve won’t, he can’t, and so when Bucky blows up and storms around stomping, Steve’ll nod sympathetically and speak in a calm and clear voice and it makes Bucky feel even more out of control, more angry, more like he’s at odds with how the world’s supposed to operate.

He’s tried to tell Steve this, he has, tried to put that shit into words when he’s not angry but Steve doesn’t get it and frankly, Bucky thinks he doesn’t want to.


End file.
